


Butter Butt, or The Story of John's Hot Buttered Buns

by hannahrieu



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Crack, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Fucking, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Possessive Sherlock, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:26:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4188516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahrieu/pseuds/hannahrieu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock needs to fuck John on their kitchen table and reaches for the only lube available.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butter Butt, or The Story of John's Hot Buttered Buns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BanimalQ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BanimalQ/gifts).



> Thank you to my dear BanimalQ who thought of the name of this story. She also beta'd the shit out of it. My friend, my beta, my partner in porn, this one's for you (they're all for you).

Sherlock pulled John's jumper up over his head and trapped his arms in the fabric. John squirmed as Sherlock pressed him against the wall, grinding his slim hips against the hard bulge forming the good doctor's pants.

Sherlock moaned obscenely as his mouth caught John's lips. He deepened the kiss as he pulled the jumper from John's arms. John responded by grabbing the consulting detective's round firm ass, violently snapping their bodies together and allowing his tongue to roam Sherlock's pink, swollen lips.

They stroked each other's cocks through the fabric of their trousers until John sneakily slid his fingers between cloth and skin. Sherlock responded by biting John's neck, and then possessively bent his lover over the kitchen table.

John groaned as he helped Sherlock remove his trousers and pants. Sherlock worked John's cock with one hand as his other dipped into the plate of butter on the kitchen table. He worked the butter between the curves of John's tight little ass, working slowly to open his center, first one finger, then two. 

John responded with a shout, ”Jesus fuck Sherlock, just fuck me." 

Sherlock pushed three fingers in in response. John moaned and grabbed the opposite end of the table as Sherlock removed his fingers, slathered more butter on his cock, and slid his hard throbbing dick into John's tight little buttered-covered asshole.

Sherlock fucked him nice and slow at first, ignoring the little pants and whines escaping from John Watson's lips. It was when John started pushing back on him, begging for more, that he gripped the doctor's hips tightly and began fucking him with such a brutal rhythm that the table began to shake, causing a whole bottle of test tubes to shatter to the floor.

John's moans were loud and insistent, and as one hand held on to the opposite end of the table for dear life, the other hand reached helplessly for his hard, leaking cock.

Sherlock grabbed John's hand before it could reach and take hold, forcing it back up to grip the top of the table. John cried out in desperation. 

"Sherlock!" he sobbed, as the consulting detective leaned forward and fucked him so hard into the table the legs creaked and bowed. 

A string of pleading whimpers escaped John Watson's throat, slowing Sherlock's thrusts to a teasing grind. He finally took pity on the good doctor, wrapping his long, slender fingers around John's hot, slick cock. John released a long breath and shuddered as Sherlock fucked him and stroked him. 

But it wasn't long before Sherlock abandoned John's aching cock for a firmer grip on the doctor's thick thighs. He forced John's compact body flat onto the table leaving leaving his round, delicious ass to be fucked mercilessly until Sherlock was coming inside him with a series of loud, guttural moans. John could already feel the bruises forming on his hips as Sherlock released his grip and slowly pulled out.

Fucked senseless, it wasn't until he felt Sherlock's large, slender hands turning him over that John realized he was still on the kitchen table. Sherlock dropped to his knees as he slid John's cock into his mouth. John groaned as he leaned against the table, burying both his hands in Sherlock's curls, forcing him to take in his cock a little further each time until it was touching the back of Sherlock's throat. 

Sherlock moaned and gagged, but recovered expertly as he continually swallowed the good doctor's prick. John then released his grip, whimpering Sherlock's name like he was whispering a desperate prayer, and eased back onto the table, his chest open and his hips bucking in rhythm with Sherlock's bobbing head. Sherlock stretched a long pale arm up John's chest, massaging from nipple to thigh as his swollen lips relentlessly sucked John Watson's cock. 

Sherlock deftly slipped two fingers into the good doctor's still slick and come-buttered ass. John moaned deeply and reached back with both arms to grip the top of the table. His hips snapped and jerked as Sherlock held on, determined to work John thoroughly with his filthy pink swollen lips and slender fingers still sliding in and out of his tight asshole. Sherlock swallowed him dry, releasing him only after he had stopped shaking.

Sherlock got up and flopped himself next to John on the table, who was still catching his breath. 

"Jesus Sherlock, you almost killed me," said John.

"Nonsense, John," replied Sherlock. "The chances of dying during sexual activity is abysmally low."

"Just shut up and kiss me."

So Sherlock did.

The end.

......


End file.
